His Name's Not Jethro
by Yanagi-wa
Summary: One thing I don't like about NCIS is the fact that some of the writers don't follow up on stuff. (I'm so one to complain. *G*) So, anyone remember Dog Tags? What ever happened to the dog. (This happens during Pseudo-SEAL, but it didn't fit anywhere so it's a side story.)


His Name's not Jethro

Betaed by Jake and Jordre

Gibbs looked at the clock on his monitor. "McGee, you need to go home and deal."

Timothy McGee looked up from his computer. "Boss?"

"Dog." Gibbs knew that Tim would understand.

"On it, Boss." Tim gathered up his things, glad that they were on cold cases until Tony requalified for field duty.

When he got home, Tim realized that he'd left at 0530 and hadn't been back since. It was now 1900. He pushed the door open and stepped back.

Butch was a good dog, well trained and obedient; despite the fact that they'd met when Butch had tried to eat him. But even the best-trained dog can't hold its bodily functions indefinitely. And Butch wouldn't go on anything but bare floor inside. This meant that he did his business right in front of the door.

Tim sighed, "Damn it, Melanie." He dialed his phone and got her service.

No, she hadn't left a message. No, she was still in town as far as the service knew.

Tim tried again and got her roommate and partner in the dog-walking business. "Janice? Where's Mel?"

"I don't know. She called this morning and told me to call everyone and tell them that she couldn't make it today." Janice sounded distracted.

"I see. So you called me?" He checked his voice mail; no message. "And didn't leave a message? What's with that?" He didn't bother to let her answer. "Never mind. You're fired. I've got a mess to clean up and an upset dog. What part of, 'Needs a walk twice a day,' don't you two understand?"

"Well, I'm sorry. But things happen." Janice sounded like she didn't give a damn one way or the other. Butch and Tim weren't her clients.

"Well, how about this then: I'm taking three cleaning fees out of her pay. And, as neither of you did what you were contracted to do, I'm not paying you for the days I had to clean either." And before she could manage the usual threat, he finished, "Oh, and, as a federal agent, I can truly say, 'Sue me, I dare you.'" He hung up. "Bitch."

He was sick of that whole business. Both girls contracted to come walk Butch twice a day; the last month they'd left him with no walk at least twice a week. He'd gotten home in time most of the time but there had been an accident three times. He'd come home to both a pile and a puddle, right in front of the door. And a very upset dog.

He called Butch, then had to go find him, in his usual hiding place under the kitchen table. "Hey, fellow, it's ok. I know you don't do that just to be bad. Come here." He crawled under the table and petted Butch until the dog crawled into his lap, whining and trying to lick his face. "Hush. Come." Tim led Butch to his bed, ordered, "Stay," and went to get the cleaning things.

After cleaning and sanitizing the floor Tim got Butch's leash and took him on a run. It was longer than it used to be but shorter than Butch really needed. Tim was tired and the mile was working on him. He patted Butch and said, "Sorry, buddy, I'm done."

When he got home there was a message on the machine. Tim punched the play button and listened as the superintendant reminded him that his dog needed to be walked regularly and that another accident would see him evicted. Not that he cared, the damn hot water heater was out again, a firm kick would make it fire and his stove had a decided lack of pressure. The yellow tips to the burner flames were proof of that. He was half-way through packing up everything, in preparation for a move. He wasn't sure where, yet, but he was getting out of this rat trap.

Butch, for his part, was just glad to see his handler back. He was a good dog and didn't like being forced to mess in his nest, but he could only hold it so long. His walker wasn't very good, either, making him hurry his business and only taking him on a short walk around the complex.

Tim looked at Butch for several minutes then made a decision. He had to give the poor guy away. That was going to be a problem, but he had an idea about that.

"Abby." Tim fiddled with a pen on his desk nervously. This had to work. He dialed.

"Tim! Hi! How are you? I'm so boooored. I'm about to lose my mind. They're messing with all my babies. I know the lab has to be deep cleaned but still. I'm clean, cleaner than clean. I'm practically sterile, I'm so clean."

Tim bore with this with creditable patience. He hated having his computer messed with, he couldn't imagine how hard it was to give up a whole lab, but needs must. "Abby! Please. I need some help."

Abby shut up at once, took a deep breath then said, "Ok, ok. Sorry, sorry. What's wrong?"

"My dog walker crapped out... again. I've had to clean up after Butch three times in the last couple of weeks, and I get home and he's practically dragging me back out the door he's so desperate." Tim waited for the his-name-is-Jethro bit, but it didn't come.

Abby decided to deal with the name thing at a better time; Tim sounded really pissed. "Ok, I can do that. Do you want to bring him to my place? Or, I could come over and walk him there. Not like I have much to do until they're done with my lab."

"Come here. He usually doesn't have any water left by the time I get home. So you need to come at 0900 and walk him, check his water and give him a treat Kong. Then call me; if I'm not going to be home by 1700, you'll need to come back, walk him again, water and feed him and play with him a bit. He's really good about not chewing, but I know he gets really bored. He's destroyed a Kong a week for the last month." Tim felt really guilty about that; Butch only destroyed a Kong if he was left in the apartment too long without his second walk.

Abby blinked, then asked, "Are you getting him the red ones or the black ones?"

Tim eyed the remains of the newest toy. "Kong Ultra XXL. He only destroys one when he's been left in too long. I think it's an attempt to distract himself from the fact that he needs to go."

"Oh. Poor baby. I'll be sure to walk him a long time. I'll give him a really good, long walk and stuff his new Kong full of treats. I'll start tomorrow." Abby had a vision of the great time the two of them would have.

.

Abby arrived in her usual Goth attire, complete with her best high heel sneakers with the lime green laces. After all, you wore sneakers to walk dogs, right?

Butch greeted her at the door with enthusiasm, nearly knocking her down in the process. He totally ignored her demands of, "Jethro! Sit! Down!" The only thing that calmed him at all was the sight of the leash in her hand, at that, he sat and waited for her to attach it to his collar.

She then found that their leisurely stroll around the complex was her idea of an appropriate walk, not Butch's.

Butch wasn't a puller, but he was good at getting where he wanted to be, when he wanted to be there. He just went his way, ignoring everything else. If Abby pulled on the leash, he'd just stand until she got tired and let him get on with it. He was also very good at gradually increasing his pace until Abby was trotting, doing her best to do as Tim had instructed and keep some slack in the leash, as Butch hated having his neck pulled on. She rebelliously grumbled, "His name is Jethro. Butch is just so ... butch. Not good."

Butch ignored this and trotted on, intent on a nice walk and the opportunity to mark his territory and take a proper dump. This walker was a softie and he knew he could bully her into doing things his way.

Abby pulled on the leash, "Jethro, come on, my feet hurt, it's time to go back." She tugged again and sighed. "Damn." Butch just looked at her with sad, whiskey colored eyes and whined softly. "Ok, ok."

Satisfied that this human knew who was alpha dog in this pack, Butch trotted on. He had missed his human friends lately, his usual walker had just taken him out and back. This one was going to take him where he wanted to go, unless she wanted to pick him up and carry him. Not happening.

Abby literally whined, "Jethro! Come on! I'm tired," but Butch kept his nose to the ground, searching for a certain scent.

When he found it, he headed right for it. His best friend, outside of his handler, was sitting right where he always was.

Jeff Eads was a Marine. Never mind that he had been medic-ed out with PTSD. You could take the man out of the Marines, but you could never take the Marine out of the man. He had been watching the dog walker and hadn't liked what he'd been seeing. He was going to speak to McGee, the second he could catch the man. He felt like he'd lucked out when he saw the new girl walking Butch. It wasn't that hard to call him over as the dog was headed straight for him anyway.

Abby tugged on the leash but Butch was determined. He just sat down and waited for Abby to get over it and let him see his friend.

Jeff decided to help Butch out so he called, "Hey, Butch! Here, boy." Jeff eyed Abby for a moment then turned on the baby blues. "Ma'am, I've been missin' that ol' mutt. Let 'im come over, please."

Abby eyed the man. He was big, very strong looking, but he had the saddest eyes.

"Ok. But ... no funny business. And his name is Jethro."

Jeff thought about that for a moment then remembered McGee telling him about Abby and her insistence that they change the dog's name. "Well, now. Depends on what _he_ thinks his name is, doesn't it? Where I'm from ..." he paused a moment to fuss Butch, who gleefully slobbered over his hand, "it's considered bad luck to change a working dog's name. And McGee told me his name is Butch and that's what everyone around here calls him." He stood slowly, extending his hand. "Where's my manners? Sorry. I'm Jeff Eads. USMC retired."

Abby took his hand. "Abby Sciuto, NCIS Forensic Expert. But ... well, ..." Abby began to pace as she organized her thoughts in her usual way, babbling. "I don't think Butch is a nice name, it's all hard and grunty and ... and ... Jethro has such sweet eyes. He's just a big marshmallow." She waved her hands for emphasis, unconsciously making the signs for what she was saying. She was startled when Jeff took her hand, got in her face (in a nice way) and asked, "You deaf?"

"No, my parents are. Um ... sorry about that ... but ... He's such a good dog really. And I know Timmy didn't want him but I couldn't leave him at Quantico." And with that, the whole story came tumbling out, including the fact that Tim hadn't wanted Butch. Jeff just kept petting Butch through the whole thing. "So, now Timmy is working really hard and the walker isn't doing what she ought and I'm trying to help ... but I don't think I am. Jethro doesn't even listen to me."

Jeff just petted Butch while he said, "So, Sally, the poor ol' guy doesn't listen."

Abby gave him a blank look. "Um .. what? My name's not Sally."

"And his name's not Jethro. It's Butch. You can't expect someone who doesn't know you're talking to them to obey. It's not logical." Jeff rubbed his temple, his head was beginning to pound. This was the most conversation he'd had with a stranger since that vendor in - he didn't even remember the name of the town - all he remembered was being stabbed.

Abby noticed his distress at once. "You ok? Can I help?"

Butch, also knowing his friend was in distress, pressed up against Jeff's chest, licking at his chin.

Jeff took a deep breath. "I'll be ok in a bit. I ... I've got PTSD and sometimes strangers set me off. Just stay over there. Ok?"

Abby wrung her hands. "I'm sorry. This is just awful. What did I do? Was I too close? Talk too much? To loud? What can I do?"

Jeff couldn't help but chuckle. "You didn't do anything wrong. I have no idea what sets me off. As for helping ... Butch does that just fine." He fussed the grinning dog. "Don't you, boy? That's right. Good boy."

Abby glanced at her watch. "I've got to go. I have some paperwork that I have to turn in and I need to finish it." She smiled tentatively. "Why don't you walk us back to Tim's apartment?"

Jeff considered that for a moment. "Ok. That'll be good. I'll take Butch's leash." He gathered it up and tugged gently. "Come on, boy. Let's get you home."

Butch happily trotted next to Jeff while Abby struggled to keep up. Jeff finally noticed and slowed down.

It didn't take them long to reach Tim's apartment, but Butch was strangely reluctant to enter. Abby pulled his leash and urged him up the stairs. "Well, he probably wants to stay with you. I'd let him but I don't know you." Abby gazed at Jeff for a moment. "You work?"

Jeff sighed. "No. I can't. Offices and I ... we don't get along. Too much time in the field. I'm going to move back home with my parents out in Nebraska. We ... the family, I mean. We farm. And Dad's gettin' on. I was always going to take over. Only son, see. And my two sisters ... their husbands are good guys so don't get me wrong, but neither one of 'em knows one end of a tractor from the other. I'm just hangin' in here until my lease is up. I've been in therapy for my screwed up head and gut."

Abby nodded. "I see. Well, I have to come back about five and walk Jeth ... Butch again. If you're here, you could come with? Maybe?"

Jeff smiled at the sweet Goth. "Sure. He doesn't pull, but he sure lets you know where he wants to go." He petted a grinning Butch on the head and ambled off, whistling to himself.

Abby sat down on the stoop and put one arm around Butch. "I'm so sorry, buddy. I made a mess. Yes, I did. I'll fix it. Just you wait and see." She huddled there for a bit, thinking carefully.

After taking Butch up, feeding him and giving him a loaded Kong to keep him entertained, Abby went back to her apartment. As her lab was still being deep cleaned, all she could do was catch up with paperwork on her home computer. Not that there was a lot of that, but what there was needed to be done. It took her four hours to do it, then it was time to go tend Butch again.

After a quick call to Tim, she settled to think. Tim was going to be home in time to take care of Butch so she had her evening to herself. She decided to see if one of her odd, read non-NCIS, friends wanted to go to a movie.

.

Tim opened the door and was pleased to see that Butch was on the kitchen floor, chewing determinedly on his Kong. He called the dog over and fussed him, rubbing his ears and speaking to him gently.

Butch licked his face making Tim laugh and push him away. "Ugh! Peanut butter breath. Come on. I'll change and take you on a nice run. Ok?"

Butch danced, proving that he liked that idea and that he really needed it.

As Tim stepped out the door he recognized his friend, hanging around the front. "Hey, Jeff, what's up?"

"I came to walk Butch with that Goth chick ... Abby? Hope you don't mind." Tim thought Jeff looked a bit crestfallen at missing her. He was quickly abused of that idea. "Can I walk with you?"

Tim laughed, "More of a trot but sure. He needs more exercise. I swear, I thought I'd found a good walker team. But ... they really let me ... and Butch down."

Jeff nodded, frowning his understanding. "Sure is hard on Butch. I ... well, I could walk him ... no charge. I really like him. He's a good dog."

Tim stopped to let Butch sniff around. "He is. He's also a decorated war hero. Seriously."

"Really? Didn't know that." Jeff eyed Butch with renewed respect.

"Really. Got several commendations for bravery and devotion to duty." Tim eyed Butch then tugged on the leash. "Come on." Butch gave up sniffing around the bushes and trotted on with the two men.

They walked and talked, Jeff told Tim all about his treatments and difficulties being in crowds. "And, since I'm not cleared to drive yet, I find myself in a crowded bus on a regular basis. Sucks."

Tim sighed. "That's bad. I work with Lt. Cmdr. DiNozzo. He swears he has PTSD that comes out in odd behaviors. I'm inclined to believe him. He's ... got a problem with containers." At Jeff's inquiring glance, Tim explained, "Boxes, big cans, that sort of thing. Swears he's been blown up by all sorts of IED's hidden in things like that. And it drives us all nuts. He opens everything."

Jeff snorted. "Don't doubt that for a second. I actually can't stand the smell of tomatoes. I got stabbed. Guy grabbed a huge knife out of a basket of tomatoes and stabbed me with it. So, tomatoes."

Tim nodded. "And my Boss at NCIS was a Marine and he ... has a nest under the boat he's building in the basement. He sleeps there. So does AJ. And AJ will build a nest from chairs and blankets and literally disappear into it. Has to be hot."

Jeff grinned. "I do that too. And I can tell you: it's never as hot as over there."

They trotted around the parking lot and finally arrived back at Tim's door. Tim offered. "Like to come up for a beer, soda, ice tea?"

"No thanks. I've had my fill of company for now. No offense, but I need some time to process. But ..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought that ... if Miss Abby doesn't have time ... well, I could walk Butch. Maybe?"

Tim had always liked the look of the retired Marine so he said, "Sure. That would be so good of you. Thanks. I'll get you a key so you can let yourself in. Come up just long enough to get the key and let me show you where things are."

Jeff agreed so they clomped up the stairs, Butch's claws clicking in counter point.

Tim let them in and found his 'walker' key in an envelope on the floor. "Well, that's that. And I'm glad. Here." He handed the key to Jeff then showed him where the food was, told him to be sure to check the water bowl, and where he put the leash. "I think that's all. And feel free to keep him out as long as you like. He's really beginning to pack on a few pounds." Tim tickled Butch in the ribs.

Butch let his tongue loll out and panted happily. He'd had a good run and a nice walk with his two favorite humans. He was happy.

Tim was happy too. He knew Abby would have a cat fit about him giving Butch up. But he was just sure that Jeff and Butch were destined to work together. Jeff returning to his family farm was good. He had no idea how large the farm was, but an acre was better than the city. And he knew that Jeff not only liked Butch but needed him. Butch seemed to calm Jeff down just by being there.

Tim finished getting Jeff oriented and locked the door behind him. "Ok, boy, I hope this works out the way I want. I'll get you a nice home and I won't have to be worried about you anymore." He gave Butch a treat. "And there's a big difference between worried with and worried about. Right?" Butch didn't care about that, he was just interested in his Greenie.

Tim set about making himself some supper. He liked simple things mostly, and tended to make casseroles that he could have several meals from. He even made Butch special dog food, disdaining canned stuff as nasty. He heated Butch's food just long enough to take the refrigerator chill out of it.

"Ok, here you go boy. Eat up."

Butch dove into his bowl and ate quickly. Tim was always a bit astonished that he didn't choke himself.

He settled at the table with his own food. As he ate, he went over his plans, looking for any holes. He decided that it was as good as it was going to get. Now everything depended on Jeff and Butch. He knew he was being a bit mean but Abby be hanged, he was more concerned with dog and man. Abby's Goth sensibilities would just have to deal.

Jeff needed Butch to help him with his PTSD― dogs had been proven to be enormous help dealing with symptomatic social dysfunction. And Butch needed Jeff; it wasn't good for him to be alone in a small apartment as much as he was. He needed to run, and Nebraska was a great place for that.

So Tim was hoping that dog and man could work together.

He knew Abby would have a fit, but better Abby have a fit than Butch get into some sort of real trouble.

The next week was a repeat of the day, with a lot of PT added to the mix. Tim was out the door by 0500 and didn't usually get back before 1900 at the earliest. Butch was always glad to see him, meeting him at the door with a doggy grin and a wagging tail. Tim was pleased to see that Jeff was taking good care of Butch. He usually left a Note Of The Day for Tim, just to keep him in the loop.

Tim kept them all as they were neat, concise and had a distinctly military feel. He knew he was going to be getting similar NOTD's as long as Butch lived and possibly beyond. He hoped Jeff kept in touch on a personal level as well. He did like the man; otherwise he'd never consider letting him take Butch.

.

Abby paced the floor of her office. She'd managed to get permission to use it, now that the basic cleaning there was done. She had been told that she could only be there when they weren't cleaning, as the crew actually wore special suits to protect themselves from the chemicals and steam. But she only needed it for about an hour. If Tim showed on time.

Tim came in just then with an unhappy look on his face. "Abby?"

"Oh, Timmy. I ... I'm ..." Abby started to wring her hands. This was a lot harder than she'd expected. She knew that Tim hadn't wanted Butch, but she'd been so desperate to find him a home that she'd bullied him into it. Now, she knew he was attached, but she also knew that the situation was working a hardship on both dog and man. So she gulped a couple of times and tried again. "Um ... I know you're attached to Butch and all. But he's not happy being cooped up in your tiny apartment, but ... I ... well, you like Jeff, don't you? I know Butch does ... but ... oh, darn." she stomped a platform-boot-clad foot.

Tim, knowing exactly what she was up to, gave her a break. "Abby, relax. I know you better than you know yourself. I think letting Jeff take Butch to Nebraska with him is a good idea. If they get along, that is. But, so far, I think they're doing well. So ..." he found himself with an armful of Goth.

"Oh, Timmy, I know it's going to be hard, but it's better for both of them. Butch won't be alone in the apartment all the time and Jeff will have the support he needs. It's ... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have ..." Abby trailed off.

Tim patted his friend on the back. "It's ok, Abs. I know you meant well. But sometimes you don't do so well. Never mind. I'm just glad you're not mad at me."

Abby shook her head, pigtails tickling Tim's chin. "No, I'm mad at me. If I'd left well enough alone, the K-9 corps would have done something. I heard later that they had plans to take him up to North Dakota somewhere. Retired dogs go there to a ranch and get taken really good care of."

Tim sighed, he'd heard from several sources that attack dogs who attacked without command were usually put down. But he also knew that Butch was a special case. But Abby, as per usual, jumped the gun. Now he would deal and let the chips fall where they might. "It's ok, Abs, I'll deal. Jeff needs Butch and, as far as I'm concerned, he can take him. I'm going to do a background check, just to make sure. I'd like to run it from your office, if you don't mind."

Abby nodded. "It's ok, but you can't stay while they clean."

Tim shook his head. "Don't need to. All I need to do is start it now and come back to check it tonight before I leave. It's not a rush, so when it gets done is good enough." He went into her office to start the check, sure that he wouldn't find anything bad, but never assume.

While Tim started the background check, Abby poked around in her lab. The cleaning crew had done a good job on the floors and the walls behind all the refrigerators and cabinets; their next step was the insides of those things. Abby wondered why they didn't do the insides first and then do the floors and such.

Her muttered exclamations attracted the attention of the crew chief who replied, "It doesn't make any difference which way we do them, we always have to do the floors twice so we clean all that so we're not groveling around in a mess while we do the insides. Although, I will admit that this is the cleanest lab I've been in in ... ever." She grinned at Abby.

Abby smiled back. "Well, I move everything and clean behind it once a month, more often if I spill something. Or, if strangers have been using my lab. I hate that. They move everything around, don't put stuff back where I keep it and mess up the calibration on my babies."

The crew chief nodded. "I know. We try very hard to get things back where they belong but some people, not you, thank goodness, they have a fit if a bottle of something is a millimeter out of place."

Abby shook her head. "A millimeter doesn't matter, someone needs to get a grip. But clear across the lab, that's different."

They chatted a bit more, then Abby left to go out to the new Habitat for Humanity site to see if they needed help.

Tim went up to his desk to fiddle around with a cold case. He was supposed to be doing nothing, like the rest of the team, but he'd done his 'dozen' and was bored. He would be glad when Tony, Gibbs and the others got in.

When the whole team was gathered, chaos erupted, as usual. Cosmo and Dean got into a fight over who was more bad-ass: Bob 'Snake' Plissken from Escape From New York, or John Rambo. Gibbs snarled them into silence. Then Remy wandered through to drag AJ off to consult on whatever he was doing, which made Gibbs nervous for some reason. He went for coffee.

And the day continued.

When it was time to head out for more PT, Gibbs stopped Tim for a moment. "You going down to see the results of your background check?"

Tim flushed heavily. "Sorry, Boss, I know I'm not really supposed to use company equipment but ... it's Butch."

"It's ok. Go check it, you can catch up. Swimming practice tonight, so we're just down in the pool." Gibbs patted Tim's shoulder and watched as he trotted off to check his results.

.

Tim glared at the computer screen; it was unbelievable. Jeff had been awarded a bronze star and a purple heart, yet he was struggling to make ends meet. His disability pay was two-thirds of his base pay. And he had co-pay and rent to pay, not to mention utilities and food. It was disgraceful.

But the rest of the check was pristine, the man was lily-white, pure as driven snow. Tim grinned at his reflection in the now-black monitor. "Yes!" He packed up and hurried out, wondering what new torture AJ had invented for the group.

.

That evening, Tim met Jeff with a smile. "Hey, Jeff, how's it hangin'?"

Jeff grinned at him, "To the left. Butch is doin' good. Um ... I got a question ... and I won't be mad if the answer is no. But ... um ... Butch and I, we get along really well. I took him to therapy today. I just ... well, he hates being cooped up in your apartment and I know he's good in public, so I took him. Hope you don't mind?" Tim grinned back and shook his head. "So ... anyway, the therapist really liked how we get along and I felt really comfortable on the bus for the first time since I was attacked."

Tim chuckled softly. "Easy there. I was going to ask you the same thing you are trying to ask me. How would you like to take Butch with you when you go back home?"

Jeff's eyes lit up. "I'd love it. I'll take really good care of him. And ... I think he'll really like it. We've got over 2000 acres, mostly in wheat. And the yard itself is huge. He could run all he wants and the vet there is a retired Marine vet. He's really good."

Tim nodded. "Ok, send me his email and I'll send him a copy of Butch's records. And I'll give you a hard copy. I'll also give you the recipe for his food. It's what the vet here recommended. And I expect a monthly report on both of you. Do NOT lose contact with me. Okay?"

Jeff offered his hand. "Shake on it. You can expect at least a monthly report. Maybe bi-monthly, depending. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Tim shook. "I'm going to miss the ol' dog, but you'll take good care of him. And he'll be able to run all he wants. Just be sure to keep up his training."

Jeff agreed with that. "I'll be sure to. He's good and there's no need for him to lose focus ... or get fat."

Tim led Jeff up to his apartment to get the recipe for Butch's food that he'd printed out.

Jeff sat down at the kitchen table, Tim offered tea as the only drink in the place beside water.

Jeff picked up the recipe. "Tea's fine."

"Here you go. Read through that so I can answer any questions you might have." Tim handed Jeff a glass of tea. "Here. Sweetened with sugar."

Jeff took the glass, absently putting it down on the table. He read quickly then snickered, "Blueberries? Seriously?"

Tim nodded. "Seriously. They're full of anti-oxidants and won't upset his stomach. You should eat them too. Or dried cranberries. Don't give them to Butch, though." At Jeff's enquiring grunt he added, "They give him gas."

Jeff glanced up from the paper. "Bad?"

"Oh, yeah. Bud-bomb bad." Tim flapped a hand in demonstration of how bad it was.

"Ugh. I'll be sure to remember that. What about onions and garlic? I don't see them in the recipe." Jeff returned his attention to the paper.

Tim thought for a second. "Not good for him. Some people say to give a dog a clove of garlic to keep off bugs, but the vet said not. Messes up their kidneys."

"Oh, okay. I'll get a good dope then." He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. "I'm leaving on Friday. When can I pick Butch up?"

"Whenever you need to. I'll take the day off if I have to. I really want to say good-bye so he knows it's okay. Don't want him escaping at the first stop because he doesn't know he's supposed to go with you." Tim sighed. "I'm gonna miss him."

Jeff nodded. "I bet. But you have no idea how grateful I am. I'm going to be able to ... go to church. Shop. All sorts of things I really can't do alone anymore. So ... thanks."

Tim patted him on the shoulder and said, "You're welcome. And thanks for taking him."

They both broke the moment, Tim bending to fuss Butch and Jeff returning to the recipe. He didn't really need to read it again but it was a handy way to give himself a bit of a break.

Jeff gave Butch one last pat before he headed for home and the last of his packing. He called over his shoulder, "If you need a box or two, I'll give you my leftovers."

Tim yelled back. "Thanks. I'm packing up everything but the absolute basics and putting it all in storage."

.

The week finally ended with a whimper, rather than a bang. Everyone knew that Tim was giving Butch away, but no one commented on it. They could all tell that Tim was feeling down about giving him up.

Gibbs looked up at the big clock on the wall then said, "1400. Tim, you need to leave?"

Tim nodded as he gathered his things. "Yeah. Jeff is going to leave in about an hour. I wanted to actually wave good-bye. We're hoping that will give Butch the hint that it's okay. Otherwise, I'm afraid that he'll try to come back to me."

Tony checked his watch. "Jeff still can't drive. How's he getting home?"

Tim sighed, "His Dad came down. Got here last evening. I like him. Jeff's a chip off the ol' block for sure."

Tony nodded. "That's good." He whistled softly and all the SEALs just stood up.

Jimmy popped out of the elevator, exclaiming, "Am I late?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No, right on time."

Tim glanced around, the whole crew was there; Jimmy, Abby, Ducky, Gibbs, Remy, Cosmo and Dean. Tony grinned at him. "E-mail. Come on."

The SEALs took one vehicle, Gibbs and Tony took another with Jimmy and Ducky in Ducky's Morgan. Abby drove her car. They all met at Tim's apartment, right on time.

Abby chewed her lip in agitation. She knew this was best for everyone involved but it was hard.

Tim went up to get Butch, no one followed him as his apartment was way too small for more than three people. Butch counted as a people.

They came down quickly. Tim just looked tired, Butch bounced around like a nutjob. He was well aware that something special was happening but wasn't quite sure what.

Tim called him to heel and walked over to the group. "Would you guys mind going up and getting all his stuff? I've got it all piled on his bed, bring that too." He sighed. "No sense in me keeping all his stuff. I don't need it, and Jeff will."

Tony jerked his head at his SEAL team and they all hurried off to get Butch's stuff. Jimmy followed while Ducky and Gibbs stayed with Tony and Tim. Abby hovered until Ducky put an arm around her.

Jeff watched with some concern as the whole group coalesced into a clump with Tim in the middle. He knew it was always a wrench when you had to give up a pet; he'd had enough elderly dogs that he'd had to let go of. He just hoped that McGee wasn't going to change his mind at the last minute.

Tim, seeing Jeff, said, "We're going through with this, don't worry. I just ... I'll really miss him."

Jeff nodded. "I'm sorry. I know it's hard. I've had to give away a few pets, and had some put to sleep. I wish I could make it easier for you."

Tim shook his head, "No, it's ok." He stepped away from the group.

Abby scurried to tuck herself under his arm. Tim just hugged her then left his arm around her shoulders. Ducky and Jimmy moved to bracket them.

The team got all Butch's toys and gear into the back of the extended-cab 4x4 that Jeff's father, Sam, had driven over from Nebraska. It was already loaded with Jeff's few belongings, but there was plenty of room for the door gate, bed, bowls and toys. Tony was amused to see that there was already a dog safety harness in the middle of the front bench seat.

Jeff took Butch's leash and said, "Sitzen." Butch sat by his leg, panting softly.

Everyone took a turn fussing him, even Gibbs.

Jeff eyed his father, anguish clear in his eyes. "Dad?"

Sam sighed. "Can't make it any easier. Hang on a sec." He approached Tony, as he was the person that Tim had turned to. "Excuse me." Tony turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Don't know how to handle this. As you're obviously his friend ... well ... would it be easier on Tim if we just took off ... or should we hang around ... ease the separation?"

Tony glanced at Gibbs, no reason to think he hadn't heard every word. "Gibbs?"

Gibbs gave the question the consideration it deserved, "Well, I think the best thing to do is ask Tim. And, I'm really more worried about Butch than I am Tim. Tim understands what's going on, I'm sure the dog doesn't."

Sam suggested, "I think it'd be a good idea if Mr. McGee put Butch in the truck and fastened his seat belt himself. That way Butch will know that he approves."

Tim nodded, straightened his shoulders and tugged gently on the leash. "Come on, boy. Let's go." He patted the seat and, when Butch obediently hopped in, he fastened the belts around the dog. "There you go. Good boy." He gave Butch a treat, patted him one last time and said, "You really should get on the road. It's getting late and the traffic is going to be hell."

Sam patted Tim on the shoulder. "That's true, but the drivin's cooler. Thanks." He cleared his throat. "For helping my son. For giving him Butch." He grinned a bit. "I'll see that they're both okay."

Tim gave him a rather tremulous smile back. "You're welcome. I've given Jeff the recipe for his food. He's on home-made stew because he's sensitive to wheat, soy, preservatives and pork." Tim chuckle softly. "He won't get sick, but you might. Gives him gas like you wouldn't believe."

Sam snorted. "Yes, I would. Had a coon hound that had farts so bad, I swear, you could light them." He patted Tim again. "Well. We're off." He walked around and got into the driver's seat.

Jeff gave Tim a quick hug, announced, "In more ways than one." He nodded to the group of men standing in the background. "Thanks, everyone. Take care of him, ok?" He squeezed Tim's shoulder and got in the truck too.

Butch panted, tugged at his harness, then settled when Jeff gave him a treat then began to pet him.

Sam started the truck and pulled away. Jeff waived out the window and then - they were gone.

Tim waved, Jeff waved back.

Tim continued waving until the truck turned the corner onto the street and disappeared, then he dropped his hand and turned.

Tony grabbed him and dragged him into a quick hug. Tim latched on and dropped his head onto Tony's broad shoulder.

"Man, I feel like a big girl." Tim's tone of voice was decidedly watery.

"So? You've taken care of that big lug for ... how long? Never mind, doesn't really matter. You've got a right to be sad." Tony patted Tim's shoulder. He was pleased when Gibbs stepped up and put an arm around Tim's shoulders, followed by Remy, who braced him from the back. Dean and Cosmo just closed the gaps on each side of Tim, encircling him with a wall of warm comfort. They gently rubbed his back, shoulders and arms, murmuring words of comfort.

Finally, Tim pulled away from Tony, wiped his eyes and announced, "I've got to do something physical or I'm not going to sleep tonight."

Tony grinned at him. "Ok, we haven't done a night run yet." He looked around, realized that everyone was wearing BDU's, even Tim and Jimmy. "Abs, we're abandoning you to your fate." He shrugged elegantly. "Unless you want to go on a five mile night run." He grinned at Ducky, who was already making his way to his Morgan. Ducky nodded back.

Abby shook her head, flourishing the black lace square she'd dried her eyes on. "Oh, no. Not me. You go on, I'll just go visit the nuns for a bit."

This got her concerned glances from everyone. She just smiled and trotted off to her car. She was well aware that she'd caused this mess, and that everyone knew it. She'd be fine, as she wasn't that attached to Butch; after all, she hadn't taken care of him every day for years.

Tim clicked suddenly, "Five miles. Tony! Seriously! It's nearly dark now."

Tony just barked, "Five! Ya wanna make it ten?"

They took off at a hard trot. The bitching and moaning was epic.

.

PTSD is very real and very much a problem with our returning troops. Dogs, and other pets, are a profound help with symptoms.


End file.
